


White Christmas

by justanotherbusyfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-06 22:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16841575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherbusyfangirl/pseuds/justanotherbusyfangirl
Summary: The boys have the first snow of the season.





	White Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Can be read as Wincest or just bros, whichever you want to interpret.

Sam was sitting in the library of the bunker, nose deep in his latest research obsession. He barely looked up as Dean opened the bunker door, the large hinges creaking as he hauled the groceries in behind him. The beginning of December in Kansas meant that weather issues were possible, and he wanted to make sure they were stocked up enough in case they were stuck for a while.

Whistling softly to himself, Dean made his way to the kitchen, putting everything away where it belonged. Originally it had been Sam who insisted everything had a place in the bunker, but soon enough Dean enjoyed the domesticity even more than his brother. 

Knowing that Sam wouldn’t be drawn away from his research any time soon, Dean set to work making dinner. He came up with a simple chicken pasta plate, making Sam’s salad just the way he liked it as well. The entire time he cooked, Dean whistled to himself, the holiday songs playing over the grocery store speakers having been caught in his head.

Once he had dinner simmering, Dean checked in on his brother once more, ruffling Sam’s hair as he walked by. After barely getting a grunt in return, Dean made his way to the den, queuing up their favorite holiday movie and setting up the coffee table for easy eating. Dean knew Sam hated to eat anywhere but at a table, but with Dean’s plan for the evening, he wouldn’t have anything to complain about.

Finishing everything in the kitchen, Dean made up their plates and grabbed a six-pack of Shiner Cheer for them to nurse. Seeing that everything was set in the den, Dean went to gather his brother.

“C’mon, Sammy,” Dean said, pulling Sam out of his chair despite protests. “We’ve got important business to attend to.”

Sam rolled his eyes and nudged Dean’s shoulder playfully, leaning back over the books to mark his place before following obediently.

Dean made sure he was looking at Sam’s face when he saw the den: dinner sitting enticingly on the coffee table, beer close by, lights set to dim, blankets and pillows piled along the couch, and television paused on the “Christmas Eve 1944” title card of _White Christmas_. Sam’s eyes immediately lit up, knowing that his brother planned all this just for him.

This had become a tradition for the two of them: at the beginning of the holiday season they would take a night for themselves, eat something homemade, snuggle on a couch, and watch their favorite holiday movie before falling asleep. Neither of them would admit how important it was, but it never felt like the holidays until the night had happened.

Sam pulled Dean close to him in a quick hug, kissing the top of the shorter man’s head quickly before settling himself on the couch. Dean followed, and in no time the two of them were eating quietly, listening to Bing’s voice as he serenaded the troops and Winchesters alike.

“Hey,” Dean whispered, his head resting on Sam’s shoulder as the bombs began to go off on screen. “D’ya think Bing would sing to me special if he knew I killed Hitler?” 

Sam huffed out a laugh. “I’m sure he would, dude.” Sam’s head fell on Dean’s in acknowledgement softly, before they both pulled away to return to their food.

By the time the Wallace & Davis montage had ended, plates had been emptied and the boys had moved under a quilt. Sam, while larger than Dean, had sunk down far enough on the couch that he could curl under Dean’s arm, his head resting against his brother’s shoulder. Dean’s head was resting softly on Sam’s, and they both had their beers handy for sips now and then.

As the movie progressed, one or the other of them would sing along softly. They quietly harmonized along with Bing, Danny, Rosemary, and Vera as they sang about Snow, and Dean’s baritone rumbled about counting your blessings, a song that hit the brothers harder with every year.

It wasn’t until the very end that both of them truly sang along, loving and sharing the dreams of a White Christmas. As if they’d never seen the movie before, their eyes watered slightly when the back of the stage opened up to see a snow-covered mountain.

When the ending title card filled the screen and it went black, Sam and Dean both let out heavy sighs. They didn’t feel like getting up, but knew that they had to clean up their dinner before they forgot about it. Squeezing Sam’s shoulders once more and kissing the side of his head, Dean moved to get up, piling their plates and heading to the kitchen to clean.

It was fast work and they were done in no time. Dean left Sam to finish up when he remembered that he had left a couple more six-packs of beer in baby, and went to grab them before they froze overnight. Opening the door, his eyes lit up at the sight he was met with, and he hurried back in to the bunker with the beer. 

Passing Sam quickly in the kitchen, Dean stashed the beer and ran to their rooms to get them each a sweatshirt and hat. Not saying a word, Dean handed Sam his accessories, putting on his own before pulling his brother to the door.

Dean looked over at Sam once more before opening the door and pushing his brother outside. Just like before when he saw the movie set-up, Sam’s eyes lit up at the sight of about an inch of snow covering the ground, soft flakes floating through the air and landing on his held out hands.

“It’s a sign, man. Our holiday season has officially begun,” Dean laughed, before scooping some snow from the ground and flinging it toward his brother’s face.

Sam was too distracted to defend himself, and he sputtered when the snow hit him. “Oh, you’re on,” he replied, his eyes still twinkling with joy over the events of the evening.

The two of them began a small snowball fight, which was really just flinging bits of snow toward each other without creating real snowballs. They laughed like they were 15 years younger, happily able to enjoy small moments like these.

Soon enough, they were both damp and shivering from melted snow. They made their final few attacks half-heartedly, ending up with snow on their faces and Dean in a loose headlock. Laughing, Sam let his brother stand up but kept his arm thrown around Dean’s shoulder, and the boys made it back to into the bunker. They quickly stripped off their wet clothes and pulled on sweatpants. Deciding they didn’t want to sleep quite yet after such a great night, Dean made them each a cup of hot chocolate and they went back to snuggling on the couch, pulling up another holiday movie to fall asleep to.

 _White Christmas_ and snow – what a way to start the holiday season.


End file.
